


Be Submissive and Be Dismissed

by orphan_account



Category: Warframe
Genre: Gen, God Complex, Narcissism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-09
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-24 03:49:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1590623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian will never stop. Why would you stop playing God?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be Submissive and Be Dismissed

**Author's Note:**

> Another one of my older works. Still pretty awful, But hey! All writers start somewhere.

Gravity. Control and order. Nothing in this infested, indoctrinated, deformed hell is more satisfying than everyone on the battlefield being under your command, and following your orders. A vortex of pure control so powerful that you own the life of someone in it. The Lotus understood this very well. Sebastian was placed at the pinnacle of power—a Vauban—when the lotus examined his psyche. "Control-freak," they called him. "Ordered, refined, strong," is what he called himself. When he was the leader,—controller—everyone and everything was placed in perfect, harmonious order. Nothing could destroy the ultimate defense. Nothing. Seeing enemies dangling from the air as the magnetic ball adjusted to the exact magnet grade of the fields produced by his enemies was so very . . . empowering!

He wasn't always like this. He used to be so very submissive. It was dreadful contentment. Over time, as the Lotus trained him, he grew much less satisfied with his current position. When the Vauban warframe was conceived, he thought it would be a waste of time. So stupid and wrong he was. This suit's abilities were godly! Trapping and controlling, controlling and trapping. Nothing was so very raw and energetic as pure control. When he was offered to be the first Vauban he jumped—no, no, no, no, leaped!—at the chance to be in the position of power.

Tesla. Damn that man can cook up one hell of a surprise for people. The first sight of technocyte infested scum (they were so disorderly!) being vaporized when they tried to enter his domain was priceless. Atoms of flesh and metal disintegrating into nothingness was pure art! Picture-perfect defense.

Bouncing enemies away and lifting them effortlessly into the air was, at times, amusing to all hell. Using the various anti-gravity platforms in unison with the multitudinous abilities of his kin was damn near impossible to penetrate.

Yes. He was, indeed, the very epitome of control. He would never be happy in any other place. He would always control the field with supreme control. Here, right now, he was God.


End file.
